


To Serve the Queen

by TheseusInTheMaze



Category: Original Work
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, First Time, Human/God relationship, Marriage, Ritual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:46:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28677633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: Ayelet didn't mean to burst in on the queen during a private moment. Shedefinitelydidn't mean for everything else to happen, either.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character/Original Female Character, Warrior Queen/Goddess She Worships/Virgin Female Soldier Who Walks in on Them
Comments: 16
Kudos: 57
Collections: Holly Poly 2020





	To Serve the Queen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [roguefaerie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/roguefaerie/gifts).



> I had a lot of fun writing this - hope you enjoy it!

Ayelet hadn’t really… planned to barge in.

She’d been absolutely _thrilled_ to be assigned the Queen’s bedchamber - The queen was said to be a deep sleeper and remarkably easy going for royalty. There were a lot of jokes about just how often the queen was off on campaign, and Ayelet knew, from her own experience, that the chance to sleep in a real bed after months and months of army cots (or worse, a bedroll) led to the kind of deep, dreamless exhaustion to rival the dead. Standing outside the door, knowing her beloved queen was comfortable and safe while all Ayelet had to do was be vaguely aware of her surroundings and daydream, sounded like a heavenly proposition.

Ayelet was also tired enough of dealing with all her fellow guards that the opportunity to stand guard all night and sleep all day was _perfect_.

It wasn't that Ayelet was antisocial - far from it! She loved her battle siblings, loved belonging to her unit, loved going on campaigns. It was just that Ayelet had grown up an only child on a farm very far away from other people, and after her first campaign, she was starting to miss being alone. There wasn't even any concrete thing she wanted to _do_ while alone, she just wanted to be alone while she did it. 

Tomorrow would be nice, at least - there'd be the big ceremony, it was true, but she could sleep through it. It was something about the queen choosing her consort for the next decade, as blessed by the goddess, and it was mostly just going to have to be Ayelet in her dress uniform while the sun beat down on her head and sweat trickled down her back. 

So really, this was the cushiest posting she'd ever had. Once it was all over, she'd go back to the barracks, and she would sleep like the dead, and then maybe go to the mostly empty mess hall and -

There was a loud noise from inside of the queen's room - the kind of noise that sent some kind of ancient terror plunging down into her guts, and the only thought in her mind was to protect the queen.

What she _should_ have done was call for help. Shout the castle down, bring everyone running, go in with back up. Or if she was worried about alerting whatever it was that was inside, she could have snuck in quietly, carefully. Made so that whoever or whatever was in there might not notice that she was there. 

What she should _not_ have done was throw the door open, brandishing her spear. The doors were heavy, and they banged against the wall like a thunderclap. It took her a moment to take in what it was she was looking at - the queen in a dressing gown, her braids cascading down her back and her eyes sharp. There was a woman besides her, or at least, something woman shaped that took up space. 

"Who is _this_?" The voice that spoke seemed to have multiple levels, and Ayelet heard all of them. On top, it was just a woman's voice, pleasant enough, although she couldn't place the accent. Then there was something deeper, something older. It made Ayelet's teeth vibrate and her eyes water. And under all that... it was like waves breaking, or fire crackling. Something that was older than people, older than _life_.

"My guard," said the queen. She was wearing a pale blue nightshirt, and Ayelet tried not to stare at the stark contrast where it rode up the queen's thighs; silky smooth fabric, warm, brown skin. "She must have heard a commotion."

The woman shaped thing turned all of its (her?) gaze onto Ayelet, and Ayelet fought the urge to drop to her knees. The eyes that stared into hers seemed to ripple, like a field of wheat or the leaves of a tree. Ayelet stared, transfixed, as they changed color, although she didn't know what those colors might be. The thing shaped like a woman was a whole multitude of colors, mostly greens and browns. She had horns like a cow sprouting from her temples, and her hair looked more like some kind of dense plant growth than anything that would grow from skin. 

"You look upon your god," said that voice, with its accent, that voice that was old enough that the animal parts of Ayelet remembered. "What gives you the right?"

"I guard the queen," Ayelet said, through numb lips and teeth that wanted to chatter. There was probably a better argument she could have made, or better yet, she could have been sensible and gotten down on her knees to grovel. Maybe run until her legs gave out. 

But she stood there, holding on to her spear, so terrified that she half expected her knees to have locked. 

"What made you think you had the right to interrupt our meeting?" The woman shape was getting bigger... sort of. Or maybe she was casting a longer shadow? 

"I didn't know it was a meeting," Ayelet said, and her lips were numb. "I thought..." She trailed off, and she was trembling so hard her teeth were chattering.

"What did you think?" The queen was looking at her, frowning. She was just as beautiful with her hair mussed and her eyes sleepy as she was when she was in her full battle regalia, and even in her abject terror, Ayelet's heart sang. 

"I thought that you were in danger, your majesty," Ayelet said, and her voice came out as barely a whisper. She didn't know if she'd ever been this scared, and she'd face down raging forest fires and been in the frontline of battles.

The woman shape... laughed. Threw her head back and laughed, and her laughter was like someone shaking a goblet full of gravel. "This is the one," she told the queen, and one of her hands cupped Ayelet's cheek. Her skin was cooler than any touch Ayelet had ever experienced, and the feel of it made Ayelet dizzy. 

"What?" The queen frowned. "The one for what?"

"Your wife," the woman shape said. "She will be the one."

_What_. Ayelet's heart dropped down into her stomach. 

"She can't be my wife," said the queen. "In order for the ritual to work, she has to be a virgin, for one."

"She is," the woman shape said. "I can smell the purity on her."

"I've never known a soldier who's been on campaign to be a virgin," said the queen, and she frowned at Ayelet. "Are you?"

_Not a conversation I expected to have today_ , Ayelet thought, dazed. "I, um," she said. The queen was very beautiful, and Ayelet wasn't sure why her brain was focusing on that. And yet. "I haven't... gotten around to it," she said.

The queen looked at her, one eyebrow up. "Haven't gotten around to it?" She looked skeptical. "Are you just not... interested?"

"No," said Ayelet quickly. "No, I am... I am very much interested." She was blushing, and she knew from experience that she was turning red, from her hairline down to her collarbones. Thankfully, the uniform and the helmet covered most of it, but... still. "I've just been... busy." Which was more or less true, if some details were skipped over. 

"This will be the one," said the woman shape, and then there was the original noise that had called Ayelet into the room in the first place, and it was just her and the queen in the room.

_Maybe that sound was her popping into existence?_ Ayelet thought. The terror was lessening, just a bit, but the queen was in the room with her, and she couldn't sit down, although it seemed like her knees were going to give out.

"Well," said the queen, and she sounded tired, "this is a right mess." She sat down on the chair, and indicated for Ayelet to take the other one. "Sit," she said, "make yourself comfortable."

"Your majesty," Ayelet began. "I should be guarding the door. It was wrong of me to leave you unprotected." 

"Call me Celine," the queen said. She looked very tired, and the light blue fabric was riding further up her thighs. 

_What would they feel like, against my cheeks?_ Ayelet thought, and then she very pointedly looked into the queen's eyes. She was still very red, and her hands were very sweaty. "I can't leave the door unguarded," Ayelet repeated.

"There's a guard down the hall," the queen said, waving a hand dismissively. "And another on the other side. I'm safer than I'd be locked in the deepest dungeon, honestly." The queen leaned over, grabbing two goblets and a pitcher of water. "Sit. You look like you're going to pass out."

Ayelet sat. She was still shaking. "Who was that?" Her voice came out as a croak.

"That was the Lady," said the queen, and her voice was quiet. "She came to my mother, she'll come to whoever my heir will be when they're ruling in my stead." She leaned back, her legs out in front of her, and she looked like another old campaigner, back from the front. There was a scar running along her temple, through one eyebrow, and when she talked it moved, just a bit. 

"The Lady of the Harvest?" Ayelet knew that the queen communicated with the gods, but... well. There was a difference between seeing royalty from a distance going into a cathedral, and seeing the Lady herself. 

The Lady of the Harvest, the patron of the country, the goddess of the autumn, the one who ripened the fruit and turned the wheat golden. Who Ayelet had talked back to.

_Fuck_.

"The very same," said the queen. "And usually she isn't quite so... blatant in who she wants me to marry." She took a swig of water, made a face. "I need a drink," she said. "Do you drink wine?" She stood up, and she was going towards a trunk at the base of the bed.

"Not on duty," said Ayelet. 

"You don't have to marry me," said the queen, turning to look Ayelet straight in the face. Her eyes were very brown, like freshly turned soil. Ayelet could have drowned in them. "The Lady has chosen people before, and they've refused. Part of it being a marriage is that _all_ of us agree on it." She took out a bottle, set it on the little table. 

"What... what would being your wife mean?" _Why are you even discussing this?_ Ayelet's inner voice hollered. _You're not good enough for the queen, you're a soldier, you'll never be as brave or as beautiful or worthy of her in any possible way._

"You'd be with me for ten years," said the queen. "Longer, if you wanted to be. And you could leave, if you wanted. It would be a bit of a fuss, but..." She shrugged, dragged a hand across her face. She looked very tired. "There's going to be fuss regardless," she said. 

"You can't just disobey the Lady," said Ayelet.

"I have and I will," said the queen. She leaned forward, and the low neckline of her nightshirt showed the tops of her breasts. They looked so _soft_ , and this was not the time to think about that. 

"Why did she choose me?" Ayelet put her own elbows on the table. 

"Gods move in mysterious ways," said the queen. "She senses some greatness in you. Or maybe she sees the future that we're going to marry and is just setting it in motion." An expansive shrug. "But. There are many futures." 

That didn't make any sense, but there was only so much Ayelet could take in one go. "Why do you want to marry me?"

"Well," said the queen, "the Lady wants it. And you've shown yourself to be loyal and brave. And you're adorable," she added, almost as an afterthought. "Us being married..." She paused. "I'm sorry," she said. "Usually it's the cream of the crop of the noble houses being offered, and they have it all explained to them earlier in the process."

_The Crimson Queen is apologizing to me_ , Ayelet thought, and some part of her was gibbering. "I'm sorry I'm not one of them," she said instead.

The queen made a dismissive hand gesture. "Don't be," she said. "We'll have more in common. My last wife was lovely, but it was mostly only seeing each other at ceremonies. We talked about the weather a lot." 

"Oh," said Ayelet. "What happened to her?"

"She's getting married to someone else," said the queen, distracted. "I believe a duchess?" She drummed her fingers on the table top. "You can have other lovers. You would be with me at ceremonies, official dinners. You could live here, although you'd have your own quarters. Or you could stay here with me, if you'd prefer that." 

"And after the ten years?" Ayelet licked her lips.

"You'd be free to stay married to me," said the queen, "or you could go off and be an officer in the army, or have a farm and raise rare breeds of sheep, if that's something you'd like. You'd receive a pension, obviously, and there'd be your pension from the army as well."

"I'll do it," said Ayelet, before her brain could catch up with her mouth. "I'll be your wife," she added.

"My wife and the Lady's," said the queen. "She's part of this too."

"Your wife and the Lady's," Ayelet echoed. "I'll do it." _Why am I doing this?!_

The queen gave her a long, thoughtful look, and then she nodded. "Well," she said, and she rubbed her hands together, "we'd best get to work, then." She stood up, and she made her way towards the bell pull to summon servants.

"Get to work?" Ayelet frowned.

"We'll need to get you ready," said the queen. "First things first, of course, you'll need a bath..."

Ayelet nodded, and she took a slug of the water. What, exactly, had she gotten herself into? 

* * *

The next morning, Ayelet stood at the doors of the cathedral, and she tried to stop shaking. She'd been up half the night being bathed, anointed, and generally prepared for... whatever this was going to be. She hadn't been in the city, the last time the Queen had gotten married, and she'd heard there had been a great party in the streets, but no details about the ceremony itself.

She'd also barely seen the queen; they'd been brought to the cathedral in separate carriages due to... something, and the people who had dressed Ayelet had mostly been talking to each other as they washed her, dried her, dressed her. It was all a bit of a blur, truth be told. She was still a little bit in shock.

All of her possessions were being brought from the barracks to her new royal apartments, and a letter was being sent to her father to let him know.

_If he could see me now_ , Ayelet thought, and she tried to ignore the roar of the crowd behind her. 

And then the queen was coming to stand beside her, before the great wooden doors, and she did a double take, looking Ayelet up and down.

"I didn't realize you had red hair," she said, and Ayelet blushed. The white dress she'd been put in was low cut, and her hair had been braided back from her face, so everything was on display. She blushed from her hairline all the way down to the tops of her breasts, and the queen was beginning to smile.

"Sorry," Ayelet mumbled.

"Don't be," said the queen. "I'll warn you now, this part is going to be dull."

"Will it?" Ayelet blinked. The people who had prepared her (including the priest) had told her that it would be a very solemn, important ceremony. Ayelet remembered her own swearing into the army, and the knee-knocking terror that had been involved with that. She'd assumed it'd be the same sort of feeling, only this time she was also going to be standing next to the person she'd sworn herself to, and the Lady would be watching over them in spirit. 

"A lot of standing around, then they'll have us drink some wine, burn flowers, and tie our hands together," said the queen. She was in her monarch's cloak, and the great red dress, with the golden breastplate. There were golden beads attached to the ends of her braids, and there was a ceremonial dagger hanging at her belt. There were flowers tucked into her hair, behind her ears, into folds of her clothing. She was resplendent, and Ayelet felt that much more... nervous, in her thin linen dress, gold bangles at her wrists and ankles, flowers braided into her hair. 

They were both barefoot, though, and when the great doors creaked open, Ayelet saw that the floor of the cathedral was actually made of... soil. Good, rich soil, the kind that could grow _anything_ , if enough effort and love was put into it. 

Her feet sank down into the soil, and she looked around her - there nobles standing, also barefoot, all in their finest clothes. The queen had taken Ayelet's hand, and the two of them were walking down the center, everyone watching them. 

There was a great, open space in front of everything, and then a breeze ruffled the bare skin on the back of Ayelet's neck. She looked up, and saw that there were huge open windows thrown open, letting the sun and the air in. There were windows of colored glass, turning all of them different colors, and it was all so beautiful it made her chest hurt. Then she glanced over at the queen, and she was a little bit worried she'd pass out.

The queen - _her name is Celine, you can call her Celine_ , whispered a giddy part of her mind - looked like one of her great paintings, or maybe the profile of her stamped on the coins. Ayelet's heart was beating desperately in her ears, and her mouth was dry. 

_Just what have I gotten myself into?_

* * * 

The ceremony did indeed involve a priest talking very slowly - Ayelet had been to weddings back home, but they were usually a lot less... ceremonial. They held hands and looked into each other's eyes, they shared a glass of wine, they each plucked a flower from the other's hair and dropped it into the brazier that was burning in front of the priest. The words were all running together, and Ayelet was so anxious that the sweat was running down her legs.

And then there was that same sound, the one that had drawn her to run into the queen's bedroom the night before. A cry rose up around them, as all of the nobles recognized the Lady, and Ayelet was once again frozen in place.

"You chose well," said the Lady, and then her hand was coming down on top of Ayelet's and the queen's. When Ayelet looked into her face, she could see features - she _knew_ she could see features, because she was taking note of the features that she could see. 

She just forgot them as soon as she took note of them. The Lady was looking into her face, was looking into the Queen's. 

"It's hardly a choice when you tell me," the queen said, and that didn't seem right, for the queen to be _talking back_ to the Lady like that. And yet.

The Lady's hand was on top of Ayelet's, and then something was tickling Ayelet's ankles. She looked down, and she saw that there was grass growing in the soil, flowers, and then they were dying into more soil, and growing again. The place where the Lady stood had the most things growing, and it was all a bit like being in a dream. 

There were words being spoken - ceremonial words. The Lady's skin was very warm now, and it was making Ayelet's own skin tingle. She looked at the contrast of their skin; her pale hand, the queen's darker one, the Lady's green one. 

The cord that was tied around all three of their wrists by the trembling priest was a deep, bright red - the color of the rose that was growing at the Lady's feet, until it withered, and fell to the ground. There were poppies blooming around the queen's feet, and Ayelet could smell the lavender around her own feet. 

Ayelet kissed the queen, and it was a brush of lips on lips. It was dry, and she had to stand on tiptoe to do it. She watched the queen kiss the Lady, and then... she was kissing the Lady, her head tilted back. 

It was all happening at once, then. The Lady was gone, but there was still the tingle on her skin, and then there were all the nobles, watching them.

"For the record," the queen said, her voice quiet, "this is the first time she's shown up in person."

"Oh," said Ayelet. "Um. I'm... honored."

"So not quite as boring as I thought it would," said the queen, and then she was smiling. "Shall we, then, wife?"

And Ayelet squeezed her fingers a little tighter, and nodded. 

It would all probably catch up with her, but just for this moment, all she could do was hold on and walk out the door, as the flowers that had grown up around their feet opened their petals. 

* * *

There was a processing, which was a blur. She sat in the carriage next to the queen, and her hand was still tingling from the Lady's touch. Ayelet blinked, and she was sitting at the banquet table beside the queen.

There had to be some in between stages - she _knew_ that - but it seemed to all be happening at once. People were _looking_ at her, and Ayelet wasn't used to that - she was usually off to the side. There was an invisibility to being a guard, and now she was at the center of attention.

At least most people were paying attention to the queen. 

"Do you know why we do this?" The queen took a sip of her wine, and she offered a bite of her roasted carrot to Ayelet.

Ayelet took the nibble - they were glazed in honey, and the sweetness washed over her tongue like a wave. "No," she said, because truthfully, she hadn't put much thought into why they did any of the rituals they did.

"A very long time ago," said the queen, "the land was barren. The seasons weren't going right, because... well, there are a lot of conflicting stories." She made an expansive gesture with her empty fork. One of her braids had come loose from the big braid she'd had it in, and Ayelet wanted to reach out and tuck it behind one surprisingly small ear. "But the Lady came to us, and she said that in order for spring to come, there would have to be a sacrifice."

Ayelet nodded, took a bite of roasted beet and goat cheese. The people around them were all getting drunk, dancing, laughing. It reminded her of weddings back home - there was usually one every few years, and her father would always exclaim about how she'd grown out of her last set of nice clothes. She'd ended up wearing her mother's dress, the last time. 

"So one of my ancestors volunteered, because she was the queen, and she came prepared to die, and her new husband cried out to the lady that they hadn't consummated their marriage yet, and he loved her too much..." The queen trailed off, her expression fond. "There's a song about it."

"I think I remember this," Ayelet said, and she was frowning. "There's a bit about a stag?"

"Yes," the queen said, and she smiled. When she smiled, the corners of her eyes wrinkled up, and Ayelet smiled back in spite of herself. "Not a lot of people know it's based on a true story." 

"It's a nice song," Ayelet offered, since she wasn't sure how else to respond.

"So," the queen said, "the Lady was moved by it, and she took their love as an offering, and..." Another hand wave. "The tradition changed over the years, obviously. But by us getting married... we'll be bringing the spring."

"Oh," Ayelet said. That felt like a lot of responsibility. 

The queen rested a hand on Ayelet's knee, leaned in to whisper in Ayelet's ear. "I know it can be frightening," she said, and her breath was ticklish, stirring up the little hairs, "but I can promise you that I will never harm you on purpose."

"Thank you," Ayelet said, just as quietly. 

The queen tucked a piece of hair behind Ayelet's ear. "I will take care of you," she said, her voice low. "I promise."

This little quiet moment between the two of them somehow felt like more of a vow than the moment in the cathedral had, and Ayelet's fingers were trembling as they found the queen's, squeezing them tightly. "I promise I'll take care of you," Ayelet burst out. "As your sword and your wife and... and however you want me."

The queen kissed Ayelet, a brush of lips on lips, and Ayelet sighed, and kissed her back. It was a little bit like falling, without the jolt of hitting the ground, and her hand was trembling when she picked her fork back up. 

_I will take care of you_ , said a voice that was half whispered in her ear, half dropped into her mind. _You are mine and a little bit of me is yours._

She looked to the side, and there was a flicker of green and brown out of the corner of her eye. _The Lady is here_ , Ayelet thought wildly. _She's here, and she's talking to me._

Oh wow.

_You are my wife_ , said the Lady's voice, and there was the sensation of a hand on the back of Ayelet's neck, warm and tingling. _I will love you and favor you, for as long as you are mine._

"Thank you," Ayelet whispered, so quiet even she couldn't hear it. 

The queen's hand was on her knee now, and it gave a squeeze. She covered it with her own hand, and squeezed the queen's fingers. This was all so... strange, but she didn't know if she'd ever felt more at home. 

* * *

After the feast, the queen took her to the bedchamber. It was a different one - this one was bigger, for one, and the bed was a ridiculous thing with satin pillows. The queen closed the door in the faces of the various court people behind them. 

“If you don’t want to -” The queen began to say, but Ayelet stood on her tiptoes, and she kissed the queen on the mouth like something out of a ballad, using her tongue and her teeth and her lips. It was a clumsy kiss, since she didn’t have much… practice, but the queen sighed into the kiss, cupping Ayelet’s face. 

Things were a bit of a blur then; the queen’s hands cupping Ayelet’s skull, crushing flowers. Ayelet hastily undoing the buckles holding the breastplate off, then the shift under it. The flower petals showering around their bare feet, the queen’s mouth on Ayelet’s neck. 

There was that sound again - that same sound that was almost familiar, and then there were warm hands on Ayelet’s back, Ayelet’s sides. 

“Do you give your love willingly?” The Lady asked, and she was holding Ayelet to her.

“I do,” Ayelet said, and her hands were only shaking a little bit. There was a flower petal in the queen’s hair, and she carefully pulled it away, letting it fall to the ground. 

The Lady was kissing her mouth, hands on her breasts. The queen was… the queen was _getting on her knees_ , and oh, that was… that wasn’t right, but the Lady was holding Ayelet in place, and what was she supposed to do?

“Do you give your love and your body?” The Lady asked, and her fingers pinched Ayelet’s nipples, her tongue warm and slippery across Ayelet’s ear. The sensation of the queen pushing the skirt up was so much, and the Lady’s nipples were hard against Ayelet’s back.

It was all just so _much_ , and the air seemed to be humming with… what, expectation? It was making all of the little hairs all over her body stand on end. It was like something was listening, but she didn’t know what, or who. The Lady’s heart was beating against her back, and it reminded her of lying on the ground when a herd of horses was stampeding by; distant and rumbling, shaking her whole body. Then the queen’s mouth was breathing across her cunt, ruffling her pubic hair, and it was… it was ticklish, it was new.

“I will protect you with this sacrifice,” the Lady whispered into Ayelet’s ear, and the queen’s tongue rasped across the line of her slit, the tip pausing on Ayelet’s clit. She _sucked_ , and Ayelet wasn’t sure what to make of that, but the heartbeat against her back seemed to be getting faster, and the Lady was getting warmer. 

Ayelet’s eyes closed, and the queen - Celine, if the woman was willing to do _this_ she had a right to her name, at least - held on to Ayelet’s hips. She was making happy, wet noises, and she was still wearing her cloak, which trailed out behind her. Ayelet’s eyes opened up, and she blinked at it, hazy. Was she imagining things, or did it look like… blood?

She looked down at Celine, except no, that was the queen, crouched between her legs. Maybe it was because the Lady was so close to her, but for a moment she could see all those generations spanning behind her, could see the future ahead of her. The queen as a person, was a warrior who rode into battle, who sweated and breathed and slept.

But she was also the country, she was the people. She glowed with all of the belief that people had in her, and she was terrible and beautiful. Her tongue was hot and wet, and her fingers dug into Ayelet’s hips. 

There was a pressure building inside of Ayelet, and her whole body was getting tighter and tighter. The Lady was whispering some litany in her ear, in some language that was older than she could comprehend, but it was making the tension in the room get tighter, pull her harder. 

“Do you give yourself to me,” the Lady asked, “give yourself to us?” 

Ayelet looked hazily over her shoulder, and she met the Lady’s eyes. They looked into her own, and she saw her own life, spread out in front of her like a row in a garden. The sun was reflected in the Lady’s eyes, and the first green things. There was the death of winter, and the beginning of life. 

Ayelet’s whole body seemed to light up like a bonfire, and then the pleasure was pulsing through her in waves, and the crackling energy that was filling the whole room, and the Lady was getting warmer, almost too hot to touch. The queen’s mouth was still against her, and the Lady’s hands were clutching her tightly, keeping her in place.

Something was being pulled from her, and it seemed to be making her legs weaker, because the Lady was gently lowering her down, until her head was in the Lady’s lap, and the queen’s mouth was pressing hot, wet kisses to her inner thighs, delicate and hot.

“Thank you,” Ayelet whispered, as the queen leaned over to kiss her on the mouth. She could taste herself, sharp and salty. 

“Thank _you_ ,” the queen countered, and she rubbed their noses together. “You’ve served your queen and your country. And your god.” 

Ayelet pressed a little kiss to the side of the queen’s mouth. “But,” she said, and her voice only shook a little bit, “I’d like to serve my wife now.” 

Celine - and she was Celine now, not the queen - threw her head back and laughed. She kissed Ayelet again, and Ayelet kissed her back. The Lady’s hands were in her hair and Celine’s weight was a strong, steady weight pinning her to the floor.


End file.
